


The Day After

by Moriartyisback



Series: The Angel And The Hunter Story (Destiel Oneshots) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little angst, Dean Winchester In Love, M/M, but all fine at the end, doubts, inside voices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26631562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moriartyisback/pseuds/Moriartyisback
Summary: Dean and Castiel had finally succumbed to their magnetism in a night of passion.The day after Dean has some doubts.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: The Angel And The Hunter Story (Destiel Oneshots) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937398
Kudos: 53





	The Day After

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! 
> 
> Here's a little oneshot about the day after Dean and Cas finally sleep with each other (That work is the first one of this series)
> 
> Dean has some trouble with his inner, dark dialogue about it. I hope you enjoy.

He has been giddy like a schoolgirl the whole morning. 

Moving from one task to another with an energy he hadn’t felt in years. 

Last night with Cas has been... rather amazing, lacking a better word to describe the wholesome of the situation. Like the planets had fucking aligned and the sun shone brighter in the sky and weren’t the birds singing prettier? He didn’t know, he couldn’t hear them inside the bunker, but he imagined they would be. 

He found himself going through every little action from last night with a stupid smile on his lips while he did the dishes, taking an immense amount of time to do such a simple task. 

It had actually happened, finally, after more than a fucking decade of pinning over his best friend. At times, it was still hard to believe. Like it was just a wild dream. A djinn fantasy created to torture him. But no, Castiel had been so warm, so solid and real against him that it couldn’t be part of his imagination. He wasn’t that good. 

He sighed as he grabbed yet another pan to clean. He would smack himself in the head if he could see himself now. Or maybe put a bullet inside his head. He sounded like an enamoured teenage girl brooding over his crush.

But who would blame him when he could still feel Castiel’s warm breath against his lips. How it felt to come with him. His warm skin against his. His hands tightening possessively on him. It felt too good to be true.

_ Maybe it  _ is _ too good to be true, you pathetic idiot. _

Dean looked up at the sound of his own voice in his head, the realitation hiting him hard. 

He hadn’t heard the usual, mean voice, way too focused on that light feeling he had from head to toe to focus on dark thoughts. But of course, you could never run from your own self.

And now, it made sense. 

_ Of course it makes sense, you delusional motherfucker. Why would someone like Castiel want to be with someone like you? You practically jumped him and why wouldn’t the guy take something out of it. _

Dean shook his head, huffing at himself. He hadn’t talked to Castiel in the whole day but that wouldn’t be the case, right?

_ Oh, really? You sure about that? He probably doesn’t want to see your face ever again. You may have ruined the best friendship you ever had. Like a champ, Winchester. _

It had felt right, last night. It had felt like something out of this world. Like something he had never experienced before.

_ It had, for you, you stupid fuck.  _

__

Dean left the pan away harshly and reached for a cloth over the counter to dry his hands. 

He was stupid. How had he thought last night could change anything. Maybe it had been just a one night thing for Castiel. Most probably. And he was here, daydreaming about it like an idiot. 

_ He wasn’t in bed this morning when you woke up. He probably is already regretting what happened. _

Dean moved a hand through his hair in mild distress, walking back to his bedroom. The mess from last night was still pretty much there, mocking him. The clothes on the floor. The bed still unmade. The scent still there, of sex and sweat and passion. He tidied around for a bit and dressed in some fresh sweatpants and the old ACDC t-shirt Cas had discarded last night over the floor. Every memory was a slap to the face.

Whisky. He needed one. Or ten. His kind of therapy.

He poured himself a generous glass and stepped to the library. Sam and Jack were at one of the tables, talking quietly over a book. Castiel was there too, sitting on one of the armchairs, reading notes. 

None of them looked up from their books as he entered, not even Cas.

_ What did you expect? Him running to your arms at your sight? Don’t make me laugh. _

Dean cleared his throat softly and walked over another table, planning to do some research as well. Maybe that would keep him distracted for a while. 

He left his glass of whisky close to him and opened one of the books he had been reading previously. Of course it wasn’t so simple. Castiel was right there. And it was fucking distracting.

Soon enough Dean moved his green eyes up to watch him. Like a magnet.

He had lost his trenchcoat. And also that suit jacket of his. He was just there, reading in his shirt sleeves. They were slightly rolled up and you could see his forearm when he moved from one page to another. His hair was still sex hair. And this time it wasn’t just a guess but he  _ knew _ it was his sex hair. It was messed up in all directions and there was a small lock curled over his temple that was giving Dean a hard time breathing. His throat was perfect, his Adam’s apple bobbing down every time he swallowed. The shirt had a couple unbuttoned buttons and you could see his collarbone lost in the line of his shoulders, slightly tensed up, as always he was concentrated on something. Every one of his movements controlled and perfect, aware of himself and his surroundings. He was  _ absolutely _ beautiful.

And of course he looked up. Because Angel or not, you could feel when you had a couple of eyes carved in your skull. 

Dean was caught, right there and then in the act. His eyes widened a little in surprise. 

And then, Castiel smiled at him. A smile brighter than the sun itself, that melt through every single one of Dean’s walls. A smile that made the hair of Dean’s nape stand on end and his stomach to jump in utter excitement.

_ You are so gay for him, it’s a fucking joke. _

This time he recognized the voice as his father’s but he completely and absolutely ignored it. 

Castiel’s smile was still there and it was such a beautiful thing he couldn’t blink away. 

_ Look away, he will think you are a fucking moron. Or a creep. _

Nope. Not a chance he could think about anything else more than  _ that _ smile. 

He couldn’t move, but Castiel did. For Dean’s surprise. He stood up with his notes in his hands and stepped silently to the table Dean was sitting at.

"Hello Dean" he murmured gently.

Never failed to make him shiver, his voice.

"Hey, Angel" Dean replied softly, taking a sip from his whisky.

_ Yeah, play it cool, you absolutely wreck of a man. _

Castiel moved a chair close to the hunter and sat down beside him. He moved his hand until it was rested on Dean’s wrist, moving over the table to see what Dean was reading.

The touch of his fingertips made Dean’s stomach jump like an amateur.

"What are you reading?" the Angel asked.

"Uhm, just going through a few books I read last week, in case I find something this time" he shook his head about himself. Eager to find something against God. Yeah. Sounded like it would be in the book you have read four times already under a chapter called  **_ How to kill GOD _ ** that you absolutely missed.

Castiel almost seemed to read the joke he didn’t say outloud, because he smiled amusedly. 

"What about you?" Dean asked, nodding to the notes in front of the Angel.

"I’m going through some of my old annotations in a wish for some profitable revelation"

It never failed to make his breath stop when Cas talked all proper and literate. Or maybe it was the way his leg pressed against Dean’s under the table. 

"There was no luck though" he said quietly. "Maybe we should read some more about angels. Try to approach some other method..." he mused.

"I prefer to do a more physical work on Angels actually" Dean said with a little smile.

_ Flirting, really? You do are delusional. _

Castiel looked up at him, hiding a smile behind his old relatable poker face.

"A man of the field, I see" the Angel said softly, making all of Dean’s insides go liquid.

"Maybe you should do some more  _ research _ in that area..." the Angel commented playfully. 

The human looked at him with a small smile, drinking on his sight and the closeness of him, his warmth and how good his scent was.

"Maybe I should, yeah..." Dean smiled, so fucking in love he wondered how Sam and Jack right at the other side of the room didn’t look at him in wonder. He was glowing.

_ He is playing with you, Winchester. You have absolutely no chance. _

But he didn’t listen to that voice anymore. Not since Cas has sat down beside him. Not when Cas’ ocean eyes were looking directly at him. Not when Cas’ fingertips moved and stroked the skin on his wrist, warm and gentle and promising. 

And it shut up completely and beyond repair when Castiel leaned the few inches that separated them and pressed a secret kiss to Dean’s lips. 

_ Maybe there is hope for Dean Winchester after all.  _

A few feet away in the library, Sam grinned triumphantly from behind his book. 

He would have yelled  _ Hallelujah!  _ from the rooftops, but he would, by no means, break the moment of the decade. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos always welcome!
> 
> If you have some Destiel headcanon don't be afraid to tell me in the comments. I am writing some of them in this series :)


End file.
